My First
by Thomas Barragan
Summary: Two people ask one question of a great entity. Only one, however received an answer. This "lucky" soul died in a matter of days. prepare for the story of the one who was nearly taken...


My First

**A/N: I'm new to the whole Fanfiction thing. This is my first story. I ask for much review, as I must admit, the better I get at this, the more likely I am to come back to it. But, what to start with? It would seem rational that one would start simple…but I love to challenge myself. In the spirit of "firsts," this entire story will be around that premise. Now comes the question of: WHO to start with? I know that The Doctor comes to mind, but this is a chance to do something wild and different. It would take a nut-job to assume that what I'm doing will make sense or be logical, but I'm self-diagnosed insane anyways. To answer the "who," this story will be a, of course, scandalous romance between…Bella Thorne and Zendaya Coleman. Yes, it's been done before, (actors rather than characters…hell, maybe it's been done with THESE two) but I don't believe it has been in such a way as what follows. **

**Enjoy!**

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Chapter 1

As the sun touched down form a high-noon position on the city of Lebanon, Djudu was taking his daily walk. He looked up into the sky at the few clouds above his head. He longed to know of their great journeys and wanted nothing more than to ride them as if on a chariot.

"A little boy's dream," he laughed as his sight diverted to the sidewalk beneath him.

One thing he wondered since the beginning of this particular routine stroll happened to be a question of one such Sun. He looked at it this day, almost as if he was attempting to gather and log its stories within his mind. This, in fact, was the question. His walk would always take him to a little café. He would sit in the chair everyday and, today, asked the Sun, out loud, this very question, "What stories do you bring to me today? Surely, there must be much to tell…you had half the day to observe. Tell me, is there anyone else who conscifies the idea that we are under the same Sun?"

This was the first question.

It's a funny thing, coincidence. It was the first question, but this was not the first time it was asked. Oh no, this question was asked on the same day, but from a different set of lips, as well as a different state of mind. However, the most important thing is, Djudu was the first to receive an answer, for the Sun could only know what to remember once the sense in remembering was etched into its core. The average man was in a not-so-average situation, a whole day flashed before his eyes as this question was asked. He spilled his coffee; the headache was too much to bear.

He heard a whining all around him. Every time that he blinked, he saw a life that was NOT his. A day that he had no part of. Thus was the confusion and pain that Djudu suffered in this first day. He found himself awake on his computer. He opened up a Word Document and began to type more vigorously then he ever had before. It was these words he had to capture; he could not forget this experience.

Warning to the reader: what follows is the last four days of Djudu's life. It wasn't his own private life, but it might as well have been. He'd spent those last few days typing nonstop…well, if you don't count the daily glances he took at the Sun. This was, in fact, how he knew what to write each day. No one TOLD him to write, he simply felt obliged to. Read with the dwindling soul in mind, and remember how close the one in this story was to being the first taken.

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The Sun peeked through her curtains and lined up perfectly on her two eyes. The brightness was intense enough to wake her form her deep sleep. She, quite unreluctantly, climbed out of her bed and opened the curtains to reveal the suburban landscape that cast up towards the second-story window.

She glanced over at her clock: 8:00 am. That meant she had about half an hour to get dressed. She had to be in the studio at 9:30 am later that morning. After the studio, she had lunch with her parents. At 3:00 pm, she had to go back home and get ready for the red carpet she was going to at 7:00 pm.

It was not such a busy day for her in comparison to the year before. Since then, she had a lot of weight lifted off of her shoulders. However, they were only removed so she could have an upgrade. She was an adult. It seemed unfitting to her. She still tended to act like a child—even in public.

She looked at the Sun and asked it the question that she had been longing to ask it. She knew it was a childish thought, but it was her instinct. As the rays shown through her now opened window, she asked, "So, is there anyone else who thinks about how you see every inch of the world, all the people? It must be interesting watching all their lives, huh?"

She waited a second. She almost felt a surge of energy flow through her. Yet, she found it not present in the end. With that confirmed, she continued her morning routine. She slipped on a top, buckled on some jeans, flapped on a jacket, and ran her fingers through her hair.

It was strange how simple a routine it was. Most would think it an hour; she knew it ten minutes. Elegance was not effort to her, it was birthright. She stood in front of the mirror and observed her look briefly. One could see the smoothness of her light-chocolate colored skin, the shine of her dark hair, and the pearl of her smile.

Her name meant "thankful," and she had many gifts to be thankful for.

Months had now passed since her big break ended. She was once an everyday topic. Now, she was just another trend long gone. She was now living by herself, making whatever money she could from reruns and selling music.

Perhaps it was for the better. Despite all the complications, she always believed life was always more complicated when she was younger. First was the modeling. Sitting. Waiting for your agent to call you and tell you that you had a gig. Then was the acting. That one commercial you had that could never live off. Again with the waiting. Finally, there was a call for a television show. After that was over, life just seemed more structured and stable.

It wasn't like she wasn't happy or didn't have fun with the other things. It was just that, in her head, some things were more important. She weighed each thing. Yep, the television show definitely made you more money, more famous, and more friends. But, was that all those things weighed? Was there something missing out of all of these things?

She sure wouldn't know. At least, not until today.

She stepped into her car and looked out of the windshield. A bug splat there, a bit of dust here, a water-spot everywhere. She clicked her belt and ignited the engine. She wouldn't put her window down that day. She wouldn't notice. It would be the First time since she drove the car that she didn't feel the need to be blown away. Perhaps she subliminally had a feeling that she such a thing was to come anyways.

The drive took not forty minutes through the Los Angeles traffic. The building was tall, just like the others around her. She'd seen it one thousand times before, but this time, it was different. This time, the First time, she had to park on the other side of the building.

There was another person that took her normal spot. She wasn't mad at the person, just frustrated that she had to walk the extra ten yards. The elevator was new; they were playing the elevator-version of Gangnam Style. It sounded god-awful. She wished they went back to what they had always played. But, for the First time in one year, it needed an update.

Somehow, she managed to drag her McDonald's-fueled self to the studio. Her coffee had just become cool enough to drink safely. She took her First sip.

This coffee was different. Yes, the fact it was made in thirty seconds is interesting, but it was not the characteristic that seemed emphasized. It woke her up more, most definitely. But she seemed awoken by this coffee much like larks would.

Abruptly, yet calmly.

This was the First time she had coffee that was that good. But, for the First time, she was overlooking all of these oddities. There was not a single thing that was out of place as far as she was concerned. She continued out of the elevator towards the studio. She heard her shoes hitting the laminate floor. From outside the door to the studio, she heard a laugh. Nay, a giggle.

She knew the source of the giggle. It was merely absent of any factor of belief. But, she knew what was coming. It had been a year since she saw her. For the First time in one year…

Zendaya was going to see Bella.

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** Thank you for the time spent. I apologize if the length of the chapter was dissatisfying. Review would be nice. But, it is never required. With that, I leave with one hint: Djudu is more important than you think.**

**-Thomas Barragan**


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